


Alternative

by raffinit



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, F/M, Knotting, Vaginal Sex, kind of, vague references to it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-02-17
Packaged: 2018-05-21 06:25:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6041542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raffinit/pseuds/raffinit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because Max is never the Alpha so why not have him be the Alpha just once.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alternative

**Author's Note:**

> I BLAME FADAGASKI. COMPLETELY AND WHOLLY
> 
> PWP starring alpha!Max and Furiosa and there be sexings and a knot and i don't know okay my brain is flying into a panic
> 
> ALSO THIS IS SHIT

It feels as if she’s swimming in her own sweat. It bleeds from her like layers of thick salt; a waste of water, in her mind, but still as Furiosa swipes at her forehead with an arm impatiently she cannot ignore the faint thrum in her core. She grits her teeth and grips the wrench tighter in her metal hand, and bears down onto the stubborn bolt beneath the Rig. The heat is suffocating even in the dead of night, permeating from each pore on her body, and she’s so caught up in the slick of grease and sweat and the stench of War Boy and engines and dirt that she can barely smell anything else. The garage is empty at this hour, and whenever Furiosa is down by the new War Rig’s hangar, the War Boys know to keep themselves occupied elsewhere.

Although lately it seemed as if they were actively avoiding any form of interaction with her. She’d noticed it in the hallway that morning; the startled, uncertain way Ace and a few of the younger War Boys had greeted her and bolted off in the opposite direction.

She’d asked Ace why - had he been telling stories again about her? But the older Imperator had simply cleared his throat, and murmured to her that it was maybe best if they got that Feral of hers around soon.

Furiosa had stared at him, but Ace had looked at her with an equal amount of bewilderment.

“Can’t you smell it, boss?” he asks her incredulously, giving her a hard, noisy sniff. “It’s breedin’ season. Heat. The Rut.”

Furiosa blinks. It hadn’t occurred to her; though in her defense, whenever Max is gone, she seems to be completely estranged from the inner workings of the War Boys and their biology. She’d thought that the increasing need to fuck had simply been due to Max’s absence.

So now she’s stuck under the Rig in the dead of night, sweating bullets onto the sand over a damned bolt.

Between her hips, there is a faint, persistent twitching, and Furiosa pulls her thighs tighter together, digs her heels harder into the earth to stabilise herself as she scoots further under the Rig. She growls in her throat, teeth bared as she twists the bolt violently, grunts as it finally comes loose.

She grins in triumph, and twists under the Rig to make a backwards crawl out when she is hit with the first rush hormones.

_ Heat. Need. Want. _

She almost chokes on her tongue as she stumbles back, fumbling in the sand as she feels the smell of him rush through her nose, her mouth, through her skin like the blood they had shared. Hot, musky warmth that sits in the back of her throat and lingers there with every run of her tongue behind her teeth, the rumble of his throat that has her cunt clenching.

He’s standing hunched in his usual broad-shouldered stance, but even from where she was tumbled in the dirt, she could tell the heavy, panting breaths lurching from his lungs. The black of his eyes when they settle bright and hungry on her and the way the bulge of his cock begins to swell.

“‘re in Heat,” he growls, and Furiosa suppresses a deep shudder that ends in a wet gush. “Could smell you.”

Furiosa swallows. “Didn’t - I didn’t expect you back so early.”

He grumbles again, a low, grating sound that cuts into her spine like grinding gears. The Mark on her neck throbs dully, burning hotter and hotter the closer he begins to prowl. It was barely two moons since he’d first Marked her; she remembers the press of teeth and hot, bruising kisses as he’d caught her flesh between his teeth and bit down. The pulse of his cock inside of her as she’s screamed at it, and Furiosa hears herself make a small, needy little whimper in her throat at the memory.

A sharp, vibrating snarl erupts from his throat, and Furiosa wants - aches for his mouth on her skin again.  He lunges for her and she braces for it, slams backwards with the heat of his body colliding into her. His hands grapple for hers, and she remembers the first time - but now she surrenders them willingly, keens in her throat when his blazing mouth meets the jut of her neck and shoulder and sucks.

His purrs flow through her like the rumble of a V8, and jolts straight to her clit as she bucks her hips up, rubs herself against the growing bulge of him. She doesn’t care that she’s getting slick all over her pants, or the way the codpiece presses too hard against her thigh, she just needs to find a way to get him inside her  _ now _ .

“Inside, inside,” she whines, shoving and kicking with her feet. She wriggles from his grasp and fumbles for his pants impatiently, lips and teeth greedy and open against his mouth, panting hot against each other as he shoves her forward suddenly, his hands rough and firm on her hips.

“Ass up,” he croaks, and Furiosa arches eagerly, spreads her legs as he yanks her pants off. The warm air nearly stings against her clit, and she jolts, groans into her skin of her arm as she hears the sounds of his shucking his pants, the grumble-purr of his voice as he presses himself over her, mounts her hungrily. His cock pulses between her legs, pre-come leaking from the head as he ruts and thrusts against her slick folds; his teeth clamp down over her neck, over the Mark that he had placed to hide Immortan’s brand, and she wails.

On his first thrust in, she nearly kicks him loose. Her cunt spasms around him violently, squeezing and clenching in roiling waves at the rush of sensation. She chokes on a breath, tries to breathe to keep her brain from fuzzing in and out but holy V8 he feels so fucking good inside her, hot and thick and the grind of his knot just beginning to swell at the base.

He ruts and thrusts and surrenders completely to his Feral needs; Furiosa arches against him, cocks her hips back to meet him thrust for thrust, to take him as deep as she can, to open herself to his knot. It had surprised her to learn that he was an Alpha; she had played at being one for so long that she had nearly forgotten what it was like to be near a real one.

“Deeper,” she pants, moaning low in her chest as he wraps an arm around her hips, hitches her ass up higher to him and ruts forward impatiently. His broad fingers slip low to her folds, spreads them as he circles over her aching clit.  “Fuck, M-ax -”

He growls her into silence, and Furiosa sinks her nails into the dirt beneath her, struggles to keep herself steady and upright as his other hand comes up to tease a nipple. She whines and groans, feels her pussy slicking wetter around his cock as he presses in deeper. Hot, panting grunts puff against her ear until he pounds into her with thrusts too deep. She feels the knot spreading, grinding, slipping inside her, rubbing and swelling and burning, and she arches her neck high, presents herself on shaking hands and knees to him.

“Stay,” he warns. He can feel her cunt gripping him, clenching around his knot and urging it deeper, her body’s biology aching for come and to be bred. He runs his hands gently over her hips and ass, squeezing her glorious cheeks hard until she yelps and splays her legs wider to accommodate his knot.

“Move,” she whines, “please, please - almost -”

Max nuzzles into the back of her neck, breathes in the scent of her - sex, sweat, the citrus-sharp musk of a bitch in heat. He presses a kiss to her Mark, warm and soft and gentle before his teeth sink into her skin.

His orgasm roars into him violently, and beneath him Furiosa collapses with a shout, trembling and whimpering quietly as his knot pulses with jet after jet of come. A low, contented purr rumbles through him, and Furiosa matches it with her own as he leans down to nuzzle against her sweaty forehead.

“Mm.” He licks the curve of her jawline, nips gently as he tastes her salt on his tongue. Eventually he collapses onto his side, taking her with him as he wraps an arm around her waist and lets her spread a leg over his hips. They won’t untie for a while yet, but it just makes for more time to cuddle. “Missed you.”

She chuffs. “Yeah, I can tell.” She gives a little squeeze around him, and Max grunts as his hips twist against her. She leans back into his embrace easily, humming in her throat as she slots herself into the crook of his neck, leans her head sleepily against his chin. “Ride go okay?”

“Mm.” He slips his fingers between hers, rubbing the pad of his thumb against her palm idly as he feels her body sink heavier against him. He shifts his hips and lets his free hand travel over her mound, cupping her pussy gently as he feels the place where his knot bulges from her slightly. He jerks back when Furiosa knocks her head to his gently.

“‘m sore,” she mumbles, and he squeezes her fingers apologetically. “Next time we do it in the bed; my knees are shot.”

He smiles into her hair. “Next time we try the bench."


End file.
